


Marshmallow Kisses

by CamillaEmily



Series: The Teachings of a Demigod Princess and a World War One Soldier [1]
Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Steve Trevor Lives, just pure fluff, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamillaEmily/pseuds/CamillaEmily
Summary: Steve figures he probably should have guessed Diana has never had a s'more before, but that doesn't make it any more shocking. He, therefore, promises that he'd make her one one-day, and, miraculously, after a successful and unbelievable battle in a German air base, he fulfils it.





	Marshmallow Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Based on: http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/161668870193/imagine-that-person-b-absolutely-loves-smores

 "Well, may we get what we want-" Charlie announced, holding up his beer. 

 "-may we get what we need-" Sameer continued, standing up and presenting his own bottle. 

 "-but may we never get what we deserve." Steve finished with a smirk. The three laughed vigorously as they clashed their bottle together and took a generous swig. 

Steve's laughed lingered as he sagged to the hard ground and Diana grinned at the joyous expression creasing his features. She settled down next to him, pulling her cloak further around her shoulders to protect against the cold chilling the back of her while the roaring, flickering fire burned her front with a comfortable heat. The flames licked around the logs and against the large hanging metal pot.

Steve looked across at her, smile stretching at his features as he absorbed the platonic love that flowed through his veins which was a stark contrast to his cold loneliness that filled his mind during his undercover missions, a different warmth enveloping his senses at the reflection of the golden firelight in Diana's chocolate irises and in the loose strands of her dark hair that was not related to the heat of the campfire. 

With a nervous and flustered cough, he ripped his gaze from her to the fire,  "Having a fire like this makes me crave s'mores." 

A couple of sounds of hungry moans come from Charlie and Sameer laying on the ground opposite to them as they faded in and out of consciousness, the alcohol fuzzing their minds combined with the hovering fatigue that came with living in 1918. The spy and the princess chuckled as a harder gust of wind whistled through the trees and fluttered the flames to whip dangerously close to their feet.

Diana's grin faded to a soft smile, her happily flushed cheeks glowing in the firelight and Steve couldn't take his eyes off her. Her eyes narrowed a little as she met Steves gaze, "What is a s'more?" 

Steve blinked. Once to ground himself in reality and diminish his adoring thoughts. Twice in shock of her question as she stared back at him in innocent curiosity. He leant forward, shifting in his seat to properly face her, rubbing a hand over his mouth as he struggled to form the sequence of words that could explain the thing he'd never given much thought, "They're a kind of... sandwich? I guess? Um, you roast a marshmallow over the fire until it's all gooey, and then you put it in-between two Graham crackers with a piece of chocolate," His eyes softened with a nostalgic smile, "I used to make them in the scouts when we'd go on long hikes and camp in forests just like this one."

He gestured with his eyes to the trees and Diana followed his look, staring up at the tall, thin trees towering over them to shadow the glimmering constellations of stars shining down at them. The ones that could peek through the foliage sparkled in the blue of his tender eyes, Diana staring at him fondly, "They sound delicious."

With a tilt of his head, he beamed at her, "Well, I promise if we can get out this war alive, I'll make one for you." 

She grinned, "I would like that." 

 

* * *

 

Diana thought back to that scene and, with the privilege of being a position to be able to do that at all, realised that it really was the moment of peace before the storm, or perhaps a better analogy was the eye of the hurricane given that Diana didn't think that she got a moments rest before or after that moment. After Steve had narrowly escaped death, miraculously surviving the explosion, beaten and broken to an inch of his life, yes, but he was tough and just with a look in Diana's excruciatingly distressed eyes, he held on, and. after months of surgeries and laying around, he got what he wanted; more time.   

Diana thanked Zeus every day for the survival of Steve just so she could drown in the small moments she had with him. Like now, with his hand laced with hers, an arm holding her into his side as they had recreated a campfire in the form of a collection of candles huddled together on the fire escape of their San Fransisco apartment. She tilted her head to rest her chin on his shoulder and he turned to face her, their noses brushing together and he smiled, "Do you remember the campfire we had before we went to the front?" 

He nodded, fingers stroking her side gently, the flickering of the candles illuminating the loving gaze he had fixed on her face. She smiled a little bashfully, "You promised that if we got out of the war alive, you would show me how to make a um... shmore?" 

He laughed, basking in the adorableness and placed a sweet kiss to her mouth, feeling a fluttering of his heart at the realisation that he could do this whenever he wanted, "A s'more?" 

"Yes! A s'more!" She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. 

"Well who am I to break a promise," He replied, smiling easily as he stood up to disappear into the small apartment. There were noise of clashing cupboards and rustling of packages before he reappeared arms full of material, and plopped back down next to her, dropping them onto the floor while Diana made a sound of astonishment and excitement, "Right, so," He passed her a skewer, sliding a marshmallow onto the end of it. 

Holding her hand over the metal pole, she guided her to hold the marshmallow just so the flames licked the bottom of it. Diana laughed giddily as she watched it slowly brown, its once bouncy texture melting to a droop over the stick. He pulled it back, "Woah woah woah!" He laughed as he dropped it onto an awaiting graham cracker, "Now we just put a piece of chocolate on top," He rustled around in foil packet, brining out a chunk of milk chocolate, placing it onto of the white goo to watch it sink into it slightly, "And then place another cracker on top." 

Steve presented the sandwich to Diana with a sound of accomplishment and she laughed as she cautiously took it, holding it firmly as Steve guided it gently to her mouth. She took a bite, the marshmallow oozing the white sludge to cover her fingers and coat the sides of her mouth. She pulled it away, chewing, the chocolate and marshmallow stomach-squeezingly sweet, the crunch of the cracker creating a variety of texture in her mouth. Steve laughed heartily, eyes thinning in the cute way Diana loved, and she laughed back, cracker crumbs spewing from her lips to make him laugh harder. 

She spoke out the corner of her mouth, determined to keep the gooey chocolatey goodness in her mouth as long as possible, "This is so good!" 

He laughed, joy filling him in ways he couldn't remember feeling in a long time, the innocent bliss radiating from this woman over a melted marshmallow sandwich, swirled and centered to end in his chest, his heart full and firmly light as she looked over at him, chocolate and marshmallow smeared across her mouth. He leant in with a grin, puckering his lips to hers in a warm and romantically passionate kiss. His hand met her jaw and she raised a hand to hold his wrist, their mouths moving against each other tenderly. Steve could taste the sugar of the marshmallow, the creaminess of the chocolate, and the soft scratching of crumbs against his lips. Gently smoothing his thumb over her cheek, he smiled against her mouth when she made a small noise of pleasure as he suckles on her bottom lip. Steve pulled away, his eyes half-open and a lazy smile on his mouth, nose grazing hers, "They do taste nice, but you taste better." 

She chuckled, squeezing his wrist, planting a last sweet kiss to his mouth before shoving the other half into his face, "You have some!" 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, roasting marshmallows, the faint sounds of jazz trumpets flowing melodically in the warm summer night air, framing the view of the roaring night light of 1920's Los Angeles. There were shouts of joy and honking of the new Ford cars, the orange light of the surrounding flat windows mirrored the flickering flames and Diana and Steve, huddled into each other, the remnants of marshmallow goo glued around their mouths, felt at home.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure s'mores were around in 1918, or to an extent, 1890 when Steve was around 9 and in scouts; if not then pretend they were lmao (:


End file.
